


Only You

by padalelli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Fluff, F/M, Teen!Dean, reader gets hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Dean x Reader where the reader has known them a long time? Like since they were kids? She's been crushing on Dean since she was a teenager but always stayed away because he's such a flirt all the time. So she winds up hurt on hunt and Dean finally admits he likes her? And maybe she's got a southern accent?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> this can also be found on my fanfiction blog on Tumblr @superfluffysupernatural

**~May 1997~**  
“Hey, Winchester, stop flirting and get over here,” you yelled across the high school’s crowded football field.  
Dean turned his head upon hearing your voice, so subtly southern, and his eyes found yours, even through several yards of students and parents, the occasional graduation cap blocking his vision. Dean approached you, holding his arms out for a hug once he was near enough that he wouldn’t bump into the other graduates. You almost jumped into his arms, but refrained from doing so. When you embraced him, your arms wound tightly around his neck, and he picked you up with his arms around your waist. “I’m so proud of you, [Y/N],” he told you quietly.  
When you pulled away, you said, “Just goes to show that a kid raised under a hunter can graduate high school. Even when she switches schools every month or two.” You smirked. “Now stop flirting with my classmates, let’s go celebrate,” you proposed.  
Dean sighed. “I would, but dad’s gone and I promised Sammy I’d take him to a decent diner for his birthday, just the two of us,” Dean said. You frowned. Dean picked up your hand in his own. “Maybe he’ll understand if you tag along.” He winked.  
A smile lit up your face and you tossed up your graduation cap for the second time that day. 

**~June 1997~**  
You awoke in the motel room your dad left you in when you heard faint shouts coming from next door. Groaning, you got out of bed, thinking, _What now?_ You slid open the drawer of the nightstand by your bed, taking your handgun. You knocked on the door that joined your and the Winchesters’ motel rooms. When you weren’t met with one of the boys, you let yourself into their room. Your dads always told you to leave the adjoining doors between your rooms unlocked in case anything happened to one of you.  
Upon entering their room, you saw that Sam was tucked away in bed, sleeping peacefully with a pair of headphones. Dean, though, was tossing and turning in his bed, mostly mumbling, but occasionally yelling out. You set your gun down on the table in the kitchenette and approached Dean’s bed, gently shaking his shoulder.  
Dean woke with a start, raising his arms, ready to throw a punch, but when he saw it was just you, he visibly relaxed. He sighed exasperatedly and leaned his head back on the pillow. “You were callin’ out in your sleep again,” you spoke quietly, as if Sam would be able to hear you if you spoke in your regular tone. Dean muttered something, but you couldn’t make out what it was. “What was that?” you asked.  
“Nothing. Thanks for waking me up, but you should go back to bed,” Dean said.  
You defiantly kneeled down next to his bed. “No. I wanna stay up and talk to ya,” you said.  
Dean smiled, silently thanking whatever that you were his best friend. “Okay,” he murmured in response. 

**~December 1999~**  
You were sitting outside the motel room in your pajamas, leaning up against the wall, your knees pulled to your chest to keep some semblance of warmth on the cold winter night. Your lips were blue and trembling, but your mind was numb, and you just gazed off into space. Dean emerged from his room and did a double take when he saw you. “[Y/N], what are you doing out here, it’s freezing!” he hissed, crouching down next to you.  
“Do you think this is how he felt?” you croaked, your voice cracking from screaming so much earlier that day and then going hours without using it. “When he was dying? Is this what it feels like?”  
Dean’s eyes filled with sympathy upon seeing your wet eyes and raw nose. He just wished he could give you enough happiness that your voice would return to its normal, lively, and ever-so-vaguely-southern tone. But instead you had the enunciation of someone trying to teach a baby how to talk. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.  
“What am I going to do, Dean?” you asked when you turned to look at him. “I have nowhere to go,” you whimpered.  
“You’re gonna stay with us, [Y/N], we’re gonna take care of you. I promise,” Dean whispered as he helped you up. When he got you to your feet, your knees buckled beneath you and you almost fell, but Dean’s firm grip around your waist kept you from doing so.  
“I’m all alone, Dean,” you cried as he led you into his and Sam’s motel room.  
“No you’re not, you’ll never be alone, we’re gonna take care of you,” he reassured you, helping your shivering form into his bed, joining you shortly after. He pulled you into his arms and ran his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm you up, but at the same time trying to be gentle and soothing. “It’s gonna be okay, [Y/N], I swear on my life,” were the last words you heard from Dean before drifting off to sleep.

 **~October 2001~**  
“Still can’t believe Sam got into Stanford and didn’t tell you he was going until it was time to leave,” you reminisced to Dean. “I mean, you didn’t even graduate high school, I barely did, and he got a _full ride to Stanford?_ I mean, I don’t blame him for taking it, I just… I dunno what we’re goin’ to do.”  
“Me and Dad are gonna start hunting on our own,” Dean said solemnly, sipping his beer.  
“What’re we hunting?” you asked. “I mean, we’ve only handled salt ‘n’ burns and a couple o’ werewolves here and there. And now that Sam’s gone, we’re just gonna hunt full time?”  
“No. Not we. Me and Dad,” Dean said. It was as if he was avoiding looking you in the eye as he said it.  
Your shoulders tensed and your breath caught in your throat. “So just like that, you’re leaving me behind?” you asked, your southern accent abandoning you like it always did whenever you were crying, or about to cry. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed that you had a bit of a southern twang at all, but when you and Dean’s fathers started hunting together, he had picked up on every single infinitesimal detail about you.  
“[Y/N], you’re twenty-one years old. You can take care of yourself,” Dean said coldly.  
At that, you were taken aback. It felt like he physically hit you in the gut, and all of your air was knocked from your lungs. Tears began to form in your once dry eyes, but you were determined not to let them fall. “And _you_ said I’d never be alone, Dean. What happened to that?”  
“I just can’t,” Dean began.  
You turned away from him and stood up off of the couch, turning your back on him before whipping back around to address him. “Don’t give me any of that _bullshit_. I lost my _dad_ , Dean. And I never left. But now, just because your brother is off at college, you’re going to push me away? You don’t get to do that, _Dean_.”  
“I’m not pushing you away. I’m hunting with my dad.”  
_“Oh, and what a father he is!_ Dean, he left you guys in a motel room for days on end!” you yelled. “He’s not even here right now!”  
“Like your father was so much better?” Dean muttered.  
_“At least he took time out of hunting to raise me, Dean._ But it looks to me like you and your father are exactly alike when it comes to hunting. Nothing is more important, not even your best friend.”  
Dean didn’t say anything. And that was more crushing than any words he could’ve uttered. You wanted him to argue with you, to tell you that he wasn’t pushing you away, to tell you some crap about how he was doing this for you, not for him. But he wasn’t going to do that. “Fine. I guess I’ll just hunt on my own then,” you huffed. 

**~November 2001~**  
The second Dean had caught wind of the big vampire nest in Iowa, he knew [Y/N] was planning on taking it down. That was the kind of person she was. Especially since he had told her they weren’t hunting with her any more. He was trying to get her to quit the hunting life altogether, but it had backfired on him. Instead it ignited a fire in her that even he couldn’t tame.  
When he got to the location of the nest- a large mansion, damn these vamps know how to live- he ran inside, machete blazing, and searched for [Y/N]. He noticed a few beheaded corpses by the entryway- [Y/N] must’ve been responsible for that. But he had estimated about six vamps to be in the nest, and he only saw five decapitated bodies when he was checking the house. The next thing he heard was a loud grunt of pain from a different room that Dean couldn’t quite pinpoint where the sound was coming from. All he knew was that [Y/N] was with the last vampire. He hoped that [Y/N] would keep making noise so he could find out where she was, until he realized that any noise she made would probably be from pain. In which case he welcomed silence every turn he made.  
He finally found a locked door. Dean pressed his ear against it, trying to hear something, anything, anything that might give the vampire away. Nothing, not even footsteps; silence was all he heard. He stepped back and kicked in the door, rushing inside. He saw a body on the far side of the room and hurriedly went over to it, hoping it wasn’t yours. When he saw that it was the last vampire, with its head separated from its body, he turned around to look for you. He immediately saw you collapsed in the corner of the wall adjacent to the door he came in through. “[Y/N],” he whispered, coming over to you and crouching down by you. Your legs were laid out in front of you and your arms dangled next to them, covered in your own blood. Your neck looked like you were missing your spine as it rested against the corner of the wall, and your eyes were half closed, your mouth just barely parted open. Dean held your face in his hands. “[Y/N], open your eyes, look at me.” You did nothing. Your eyes were glazed over and you couldn’t move, you’d lost so much blood. Dean took of his jacket and ripped off his flannel, wrapping it around your sliced open forearms. “Don’t give up on me now, [Y/N]. Not today,” he whispered as he pulled you into his arms bridal style, rushing you back to the Impala he stole from John.  
~  
You woke up to the smell of bleach, a soft rhythmic beeping sound by your side, the weight of warm blankets against your bare legs… and the soft touch of rough hands against yours. You turned your head slightly and saw Dean’s slumbering form in a chair pulled up close against your bedside. So close that he was hunched over a little and his head was resting on your bed, next to your legs, but his hand was clutched tightly to yours. He looked aged beyond his years. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, and had spent that entire time worrying instead.  
You smiled at the fact that he was there at all. You’d seen him pretend to care about so many girls, and especially after Sam left and he told you he didn’t want you to hunt with him anymore, you just assumed he only pretended to care about you as well. But the sight of him here, now, made you realize that if he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t be here. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and it immediately woke him up. Dean opened his eyes and eagerly lifted his head up, scooting his chair closer to the top of the bed. “You’re awake,” he said, as if you didn’t know.  
You chuckled and glanced down at your arms, completely wrapped in ace bandages. “You came for me,” you said.  
He smiled. That smile that you wished you could wake up to every day, and today was one of those days, just not the way you wanted it to be. “Of course I came for you… You’re the love of my life, [Y/N].”  
Your eyes widened and you lifted your eyebrows, your mouth falling open slightly. “What?” you whispered, barely audible.  
Rather than a verbal answer, Dean stood up and leaned over you, cupping your cheek in his hand and meeting your lips with his. You embraced the kiss and a tear slid from your eye, Dean wiping it away with his thumb as he continued to kiss you.  
When he pulled away, you hesitantly opened your eyes, afraid you’d been dreaming. “But… but what about all those other girls?” you whispered.  
“It was only ever you, [Y/N]. I didn’t want to admit it, but… I just can’t stop coming back to you. I didn’t think I could love a girl like this, hell I didn’t want to, I was too scared. But I love you, [Y/N]. I know it’s corny, but if I didn’t say it, then I might lose you again and I sure as hell don’t want that.”  
You smiled and leaned your head back against the pillows, looking at the ceiling. “Wish you’d told me that before I almost got killed by a vamp.”


End file.
